#saz requests !

[stvnszlr]

HI! Here to beg u for Steven adhd headcanons

Pls i promise i'll be good this year.

oh my goodness … so um this is something i am like way too passionate about !! im going to seem like the craziest crazy person EVER by sharing this cuz i wrote .… a lot but u guys gotta stick with me okay you’ll see the vision

THANK YOU for asking this btw ! this is one of the things that makes me relate to steven the most ,,>_<,, and i will literally talk abt it anytime

☆ steven adhd hc’s / reasons why i think it’s possible he has adhd ! ☆ ( coming from someone who has a severe combined type adhd diagnosis )

please note this is all just speculation !! i’ve noticed some connections between his behavior / things he’s spoken about and adhd symptoms , but i am certainly no doctor and the only one who can truly determine any of this is steven himself . these observations are mostly just for my comfort as a neurodivergent person :)

ohhh stevie is a BIG stimmer :) he taps on everything in sight , he also hums a lot and likes to move his body ! bouncing , jumping , flapping , shaking , jiggling , playing with his hair ( i have video evidence sue me >:( )

people often describe him as “twitchy” , randomly making odd movements or sounds that can surprise and confuse those around him

vocal stims , dude . like my man is a parrot he’ll repeat random phrases over and over without thinking about it , just going about his day mumbling the most obscure sentences without even realizing

i’ve also noticed from watching videos he has a big BIG tendency to repeat things other people say !! i think that’s a combo of vocal stimming and also struggling to fit in when making conversation

he has literally confessed to having sensory issues related to taste and texture ??!?!? so i imagine he has them with other things too it’s mostly touch or sound related things that really get to him and can cause overwhelm but honestly anything that catches him at the right time will have him retreating inside himself and blocking everything out , unable to respond cuz he can’t think or listen

also seems to struggle with clothes touching his body ! he is always in loose tank tops and wears a lot of cropped pants / shorts , and has never really worn a lot of accessories unlike his bandmates . this could definitely be attributed to sensory issues , especially hating the feeling of wearing jewelry ( rings especially ) and also makeup on his face

drums !!! poppy loves drumming , it is SUCH a good stimulant for his brain cuz it works muscle memory , gives a dopamine rush , and combines both creative thought with an athletic activity

hyperfixations oh my god he is so bad . so so bad . he’ll pick up something for like a few weeks and dedicate EVERYTHING to it just to never pick it up again

very typical hyperactive type adhd , trouble focusing and sitting still OH MY GOD this man cannot sit normally for the life of him

um hyperfocus also !! drums is prolly his biggest one but if it’s something he’s super tuned into he can just . sit there and mindlessly work on it for HOURS before someone notices and is like hello take a break ??

didn’t like school cuz he always felt like he wasn’t smart , he was actually really interested by some subjects but just couldn’t keep up as a student :/ he also started getting into skating and music which were much better dopamine activities than school so he kinda just . quit ?

part of why his mom kicked him out so young , he was impulsive and reckless and very VERY high energy , easily irritated and his emotions had no filter / couldn’t control them or his actions based on them

this poor kid is so forgetful . he really cannot remember shit and it gets him in trouble a lot ! he’s gotta be reminded by the guys about EVERYTHING and it annoys them to no end , and steven always feels bad cause he wishes he could remember , but for some reason he forgets every time !

it’s where his irritability comes from too , he sometimes flips like a switch and can get really defensive and aggressive . he’ll lash out and turn really angry — not in a super serious way , but it’s the reason he gets in so many little fights with all the other guys , especially axl .

this is also tied in with the rlly strong sense of justice that neurodivergent people feel !! the reason he’d stand up and talk back when everyone else could just let it go

easier to fall into addiction and harder to get out of it . places a vice on his brain , trapping him in dependency on the drugs and making it so much more difficult to quit — why it took him so much longer to get sober than any of the others , even after all his health scares

drugs are also a coping mechanism for sensory issues and that awful , isolating feeling of being built just slightly different than everyone else

UM ???? LIKE EVERYTHING ABOUT STEVEN POST GNR + LEAVING THE BAND IS JUST SCREAMING RSD ??? like the abandonment issues built up from his childhood ON TOP of being insanely sensitive to disappointing others / feeling unwanted ?? yeah i fucking understand why he couldn’t let go of it for almost twenty years of his life that’s like the worst possible thing to go through as someone hypersensitive to feelings of rejection bro . oh my god .

rsd also attributes to him being really eager to please especially with friends , and trying to talk himself up and seem cool and on their level and worth keeping around :(

i do also think it is likely that he learned to mask a LOT of his symptoms , of course not all of them ( as we can pretty obviously see in like . any video ever taken of him ) but a lot of the less socially acceptable ones he naturally forced himself to hide :( 

#thanks for listening to my yapping #i am begging this man to take the brown scales test he would be off the charts #steven adler #saz speaks #saz requests ! #guns n roses #gnr #steven gnr #steven adler adhd #guns n roses headcannons #steven adler imagine #adhd #neurodivergent

[sarahscribbles]

A request for your Big Follower Celebration, as long as I haven’t missed the deadline!

What about some dom!Loki with the prompts:

17. “Hands behind your back” and

20. “Breathe through your nose”

Only if it inspires, of course! 😘

Love you so much, Saz! And congrats on this milestone, you deserve allllll the love! 💕🍾

Anything for you, my sweet angel of a friend!! I love you so much!

𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The heavy tread of his boots echoed loudly against the sleepy stillness that had settled over your floor like a blanket. Each large step along the hallway to your bedroom was filled with more purpose than the last, making your heart thunder in your chest. He approached swiftly - each step quick and nimble - enough to tell you that the mission had been a success. 

And he was coming to claim his prize. 

You were still awake, wrapped loosely within cool cotton sheets and waiting for the first telltale sign of his arrival home - as you had been since the staticky message from Rogers confirming that they were only a few hours out from the compound. Sleep had evaded you, refusing to submerge you in its sweet oblivion until you were sure that Loki was safely back within the compound walls.

Ridiculous, though, to think that sleep had ever been on the agenda for tonight. 

With every step he took excitement pooled like lava between your thighs, the anticipation of what awaited you when he opened that door having you all but wriggling beneath the sheets. You could picture perfectly his approach along the empty hallway - cape billowing behind him on a phantom wind, dried morsels of blood and dirt marring his handsome face, eyes bright and blazing with the need to stake his claim on you.

Likely more than once. 

You swung free from the loose tangle of sheets, bare feet lightly hitting the floor at the exact moment the bedroom door eased open. Loki stepped almost soundlessly into the room, the soft rustle of his clothing being the only thing breaking the quiet. His expression was neutral, unphased, but his eyes betrayed him; a predatory glint shone in the depths of emerald green, exposing the storm that swirled fiercely within him. You noticed quickly that his leather was torn and shredded, his cape burned and tinged with ash, and his face a broken map of bruises, dirt, and partially healed cuts.

He looked feral. 

The final distance between you both was closed in a heartbeat as you gathered him in your arms, breathing in the scent of him like it was your favourite perfume. The familiar notes of leather and patchouli mingled with the acrid scent of smoke and death, but it was Loki - your best friend and your entire heart. 

His embrace was crushing, filled with the quiet longing of ten days apart, and you could feel his steady heartbeat thundering against yours. You shifted a fraction in his arms, enough that you could feel his lips press softly against your temple in the barest hint of a kiss.

“My sweet girl,” he said softly on a single exhale, an unmistakable note of relief in his smooth voice. His hand twisted easily into your hair, tucking you beneath his chin as he nuzzled into you, as though you were the single source of strength keeping him on his feet. 

You basked in the warm glow of his love, letting it seep in and fill every inch of you after so long without him, but even the innocence of your reunion had your body ache for him. Your legs longed to be wrapped around his waist, your fingers longed to explore every inch of his perfectly toned body, and your lips longed to tingle with the taste of his. After ten days without so much as a touch, your entire being cried out for him. With arousal pooling like liquid sin between your thighs, you rolled your hips experimentally against his, feeling him already half hard and delighting in the growl of approval that floated from his lips.

“Already, darling?” Loki teased, letting his hand slide down your back. The tips of fingers traced suggestively along your spine, making you shiver with anticipation beneath his touch.

His practiced fingers could play your body like an instrument and a single, teasing touch was enough to guarantee your willing submission. You would bend however he wished you to. 

You pulled back from the comfort of his chest to tilt your head back, feeling your heart jolt wildly at the wicked glint shimmering in his eyes. A sure promise of mischief and debauchery that made your core thrum with need for him. 

“I missed you,” you replied simply, sliding your hands from his waist to squeeze his ass. 

You heard his sharp intake of breath at the same moment the devilish smirk curled across his face. Loki grasped your chin between two sinfully long fingers, holding you still while he kissed you so fiercely you feared your knees would buckle beneath you. It lasted for little over five seconds, but when his mouth left yours his eyes were blown wide with lust.

He didn’t release your chin, but gently jerked your head back. The small action was enough to have something stir to life in the depths of your stomach.

“On your knees, mouth open,” he ordered quietly, letting his thumb trace over your lower lip.

You inhaled a broken, stuttering breath, swallowing thickly and feeling your blood pulse with desire to please this man. You wanted your name spilling from his lips while you drowned him in pleasure, you wanted to feel every jerk and jump of his taut muscles as he came undone beneath your touch. His pleasure was all you wanted, all you ever wanted, and so you folded easily to your knees in front of him, never breaking his gaze while you obediently parted your lips. 

Loki’s hand rested on your cheek as you settled on the ground, his cool touch a balm to the blazing heat that burned beneath your cheeks. His thumb caressed your skin so lovingly that you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, all the while arousal burned like wildfire in the depths of his eyes. 

“Good girl,” he praised you, his smooth voice wrapping around you like crushed velvet. His fingers drifted from your cheek down the column of your neck, making your heart beat wildly in your chest until they stalled at the collar of your shirt. “Off,” he ordered simply, tugging briefly at the soft material.

You obeyed without hesitation, beyond eager to be used for his pleasure. When you were kneeling before him in only your sleep shorts, he ran his eyes slowly over you, hungrily drinking in every inch of your bare skin as though seeing you unclothed for the first time.

“Exquisite,” he murmured softly, curling a finger beneath your chin. “You are not permitted to speak, do you understand?” 

You nodded your understanding at the same moment a fresh surge of arousal blazed beneath your skin, reading and willing to submit to whatever he wished to do to you. He ghosted his thumb slowly along your cheek until it slipped into your open mouth, and you eagerly locked your lips around it, holding his gaze while swirling your tongue around the cool skin. 

Loki’s eyes darkened and his lips parted only a fraction as he watched you, the only small sign of the effect you were having on him. “Always so eager for me, aren’t you, darling?” he taunted, using his free hand to begin unbuttoning his leathers. 

With his thumb still between your lips, you nodded quickly, desperate for the heavy feel of his cock on your tongue. He pulled his thumb from your mouth, silently smearing the excess saliva around your lips and fully freeing himself from the confines of his silk boxers. He was hard and throbbing and you wriggled with impatience to have him in your mouth. 

He stroked himself slowly right in front of your face - long, measured rolls of his wrist that made arousal bubble and simmer within you like an oncoming storm. Impatiently, you watched every pull of his velvet skin and every pearl of his own arousal that gathered at the end of his cock. 

He was flawless. 

And he was yours.

“Fuck, darling,” Loki hissed out while positioning himself at your open mouth. “Do you know how badly I’ve craved you? Your hot little mouth and perfect cunt? The mere thought of you has driven me to distraction,” he rasped out, teasingly tracing the angry tip of his cock along your lower lip.

You resisted the almost overpowering urge to flick your tongue against it, to taste the pearly beads of arousal that were beginning to drip steadily from him. Above you, Loki laughed quietly, all while slowly pressing his cock into your waiting mouth. 

“Go on, then. Impress me,” he taunted, feeding you his cock inch by inch. 

Eagerly, you locked your lips around him, sitting up on your knees to grip the backs of his muscular thighs for purchase while you swirled your tongue greedily around him. He was hard and heavy between your lips, every ridge and vein dragging deliciously against your skin. You took him as far into your mouth as you could, licking down the entire beautiful length of him and using your grip on his thighs to help bob along it.

Until a brief flash of green light sent your hands flying off them.

“Hands behind your back,” Loki ordered huskily, twisting his own hand roughly into your hair. 

You obeyed easily, eager to both bring him to his release and get your reward for obeying him like a good girl; he rewarded you handsomely when you were good for him. With your hands now folded behind you, you had to work harder to take him, but Loki was ever generous and assisted by pushing your head further and further along his cock. Again and again, the tip of him would hit the back of your throat until you gagged loudly around him and, each time you did, you felt him twitch against your tongue.  

It only made your own arousal burn like a summer sun between your thighs.

Loki’s hand remained twisted like a vice in your hair, refusing to grant you even the slightest bit of relief while he guided you none too gently along his cock. He was desperate for his release, so desperate that he was content to merely use you for his pleasure without any thought to your own. 

“Fuck…fuck, darling!” he grunted. “How often I thought of this…of how well you take me.” 

Pride bloomed like a new spring rose deep within your stomach, each unfurling petal warming you right down to the tips of your fingers. He had thought of you on those nights alone, had pictured you behind closed eyes while he pleasured himself. The mental image of him - head thrown back, black curls spilling over his shoulders while he stroked himself to the thought of you - filled you with a renewed desire to please him and see him come undone because of you.  

You wanted him to feel the ecstasy he had only been able to imagine. 

When his hand twitched in your hair - further solidifying his hold on you - you made to hollow your cheeks to propel him towards a shattering release and feel him spill down your throat. How badly you longed to taste your god. You relaxed your throat as best you could, ready and waiting for him to explode, but Loki only pushed you down his cock as far as you could take him, holding you in place barely an inch away from the trimmed smattering of coarse hair. 

You balked as the tip hit the back of your throat, instantly attempting to pull back for a gasp of air, but Loki’s hand held you firm, like a lead weight pressed against the back of your head. 

You would remain where you were until he decided otherwise. 

His cool fingers curled around your skull for added leverage, pushing the head of his cock further down your throat until you audibly gagged around him. It was the furthest you had ever taken him and you yearned to make him proud. 

“Breathe through your nose,” he ordered while giving a single thrust into the wet heat of your mouth. The deep, guttural moan it elicited from him was sinful and made every inch of you tingle with desire. 

No sound compared to that of your god moaning because of you. 

With every single slow thrust into your mouth, you fought the urge to gag, putting all your effort into breathing through your nose as Loki had ordered. His free hand was quickly resting against your cheek, his thumb slowly stroking over your skin to keep you grounded, each soft caress whispering “I am here and I love you.”

Hot tears began to prick in the corners of your eyes as he held you there, but you didn’t move an inch. You could feel him twitch against your tongue with unspent release and the deep moans that floated from him like an unbroken melody stirred in your core. You were making him feel this good simply by holding his cock in your mouth. It made you almost dizzy with pride.

“That…that little mouth of yours…is Valhalla, darling.” His voice was raspy with his need for release, every syllable sounding more desperate than the last, every few words punctuated with his quiet grunts of pleasure. “You are Valhalla.”

Satisfaction seared intently beneath your skin and set your blood alight. Loki was never shy with his praise - ensuring to shower you in it even when being punished - but his sweet words never failed to make you feel light as air. His Asgardian lovers had likely been lightyears more experienced in how to pleasure him, but yet he called you his Valhalla. 

You, a mortal, were his continued undoing. 

The hand in your hair curled into a fist, pulling you back with the barest twinge of pain until only the weeping tip of his cock rested on your tongue. He was hot and heavy and you could taste the arousal that dripped teasingly onto your tongue with each second that passed. The temptation was too great, so, brazenly, you swirled your tongue around him, savouring every ridge and dip and bead of his excitement. 

Above you, you heard the sharp hiss of pleasure that escaped Loki’s lips and felt his hips snap forward almost of their own accord to push his cock back into your mouth. You accepted it greedily, bracing for the forceful slide to the back of your throat that would cut off your air again- a discomfort you would happily endure if it meant pleasing him. 

It was a discomfort that never came. 

Instead, he framed your face with two large, filthy hands, effectively immobilising you while he began to thrust into your waiting mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the single word leaving him on a broken, shuddering breath. “You’ll…ugh…you’ll be the end of me, darling.”

His hands locked around your skull like a vice, leaving you powerless to do anything but accept the near frantic pace he set as he fucked your mouth. Vainly, you attempted to bob your head along his cock, and resisted the urge to plant your hands on his firm ass to coax him further down your throat. Even with every beautiful inch of him filling your mouth you craved more.

You could never get enough of him. 

His steady breathing quickly faltered to a stream of short, sharp pants as he dangled at the end of completion. You could see the mass of muscles in his thighs strain beneath his tight leather trousers, and could feel his merciless grip on your head as his release threatened to consume him. 

“Fuck…fuck…darling, I’m…I’m…so close,” he panted through gritted teeth.

An upward flick of your eyes had something deep in your core twist with desire. His head was thrown back on his shoulders, black curls streaming down his back, teeth bared and nostrils flared as he chased his bliss. 

It was a sight you could get drunk on. 

His thrusts into your mouth grew increasingly erratic as he neared the edge and his sharp little cries of pleasure were almost your undoing. 

“Darling…please…please,” he begged desperately, his impending release almost robbing him of his ability to speak. 

You knew what he was asking - begging - for, and wasted no time in flattening your tongue firmly along the throbbing length of him in exactly the way he loved. 

It was all he needed to go soaring off the edge. 

His fingers twisted viciously into your hair for purchase as his orgasm consumed him - a climax so powerful you saw his knees half buckle beneath him. Your name was a shout to the heavens, to Valhalla, and mixed with a stream of curses so filthy you swore they could have made Tony blush. Your tongue was coated quickly in his release - hot ropes of his cum spilling down your throat and between your lips, all while his deep cries of pleasure continued to ring around the room.

You found you didn’t much care if he had cast a silencing charm, your pride half wanting the others to hear how you were making this god come undone in your mouth, how you were making him moan out your name at the height of his orgasm.

You continued to hold him until he was spent, until his hips came to a gradual stop and he eased himself carefully out of your mouth.

 He was still hard.

One hand remained lightly cupping your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over your lips to rid you of what remained of him. “Magnificent, my love,” he rasped, bending easily to hoist you over his shoulder. 

There was barely a moment for you to protest. In four large steps he had crossed to the bed, tossing you easily into the mess of sheets and pinning you there with a hungry glint shining in his eyes. “But I do hope you aren’t tired. I haven’t even started with you yet.”

Pals of Saz taglist: @cheekyscamp @coldnique @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @fictive-sl0th @cake-writes @the-lady-amphitrite @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @give-me-a-moose @springdandelixn @maple-seed @loopsisloops @kinky-faerie @wintermischief @lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @icytrickster17 @mischief-dream

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki imagine

[biiigtime]

# BIIIGTIME ! an independent, private, mostly - kayfabe portrayal of THE MAN, BECKY LYNCH. written in all eras — dependent on pre - plotting. general roleplay rules apply. directed by saz, 22, cst, she/her. must be 21+ to interact.

pinterest. & dms are open & discord available to mutuals on request.

#wrestling rp #wwe rp #indie rp #❥ 𝐨𝐨𝐜 ﹕ pinned. #be gentle with me

[mvnisms]

they see right through me, can you see right through me ? i see right through me. // the myth, the legend, the MAN. BECKY LYNCH grew up a small fish in a big pond, wanting something more, wishing she could do something, anything. even as a little girl. now, a lasskicker, certified main eventer, and future hall of famer, she’s officially gone BIG TIME ! // the MOON taught me there is beauty in the darkness, too. THAT EVEN WHEN I DON’T FEEL WHOLE, i am still enough.

a dependent, semi - kayfabe portrayal for nitrohq, penned by saz ( 22, cst, she / her. ) dm’s open for plots, chit chat, & talkin’ shit. discord available upon request.

#♡. 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 ✧ intro .ᐟ #CAO; feb 22 ‘24 #n.intro

[mamiimania]

stylized as a heel, gravitating towards a dependent && kayfabe — based portrayal. exclusively for elevationhq, penned / loved by saz !

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐓 // with a chip on her shoulder & an RKO with her name on it, RHEA RIPLEY has never been apologetically anything. and while inside her there may be a still is once insecure, secretly emo, blonde, miz fan, with a weird little girl attitude & a deep need to be accepted; she’s more than happy to be MAMI on monday nights. // you think i’ll be a dark sky so you can be the star ? I’LL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE ! // rhea is single, and no, that doesn’t mean she wants you. really, in her mind, she doesn’t need anyone but her judgement day boys. & her dogs, icons that they are.

notable connections // none, come change that. <3

ooc note // hellooooo friends ! i’m saz, some of you may know me, i’m so excited to write with you again !! and for those that don’t, i’m so excited to write with you for the first time !! please feel free to reach out in the dms with any plots ( with miss ripley or miss moné ), vents, tiktok’s, etc. discord is available upon request !

#elevation.intro #( 😈 ) ⸻ 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 : INTRO.

[cedesfms]

stylized as a heel, gravitating towards a dependent && kayfabe — based portrayal. exclusively for elevationhq, penned / loved by saz !

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐋 𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄, 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 // an attitude is in her mouth from the time she's born, MERCEDES MONÉ has never been one to be silent. someone who was once a pathological people pleaser is now fully a #BOSS. sorry, not sorry // my alone feels so good, i’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my SOLITUDE // unless it’s snoop dogg, family is friends, family isn’t blood. there’s only one person you could really see yourself with, but you were young & dumb. love is friends, love is work.

notable connections // roman reigns, friends to exes to it’s complicated. he's her person, not that she'd ever let him know that. / currently seeking platonic connections !

ooc note // hellooooo, i’m saz ! cedes is my second baby, i can’t follow you back from her. but im so happy to bring her & @mamiimania here to elevation ! dms are open to plots, vents, tiktok’s, etc. discord available upon request, i dont bite, i promise. <3

#( 💰 ) ⸻ 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒚 : INTRO. #elevation.intro

[ripleyfms]

#RIPLEYFMS ; a dependent portrayal of wwe ' s 𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐘 ; there ' s really no way of WINNING , if in their eyes -- you ' ll always be a dumb blonde . a study in : a BIG heart locked behind several iron clad doors ; self - destruction , YOUR MAMI , if purple monster energy drinks were a person , HUBRIS , former goth girls all grown up , & how to be a CHAMPION . penned , loved & cared for , by saz ( 22 , cst , she/her ) for n/a .

connections open & available through sending a dm , hitting the heart , or via discord ( which will be available upon request ! )

#› 𝐈 𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ‹ intro . #› 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 𝐌𝐄 ‹ pinned .

[bextms]

#BEXTMS ; a dependent portrayal of wwe ' s 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇 ; i'm so sick of them comin' at me again, cause if i was a MAN ? then i'd be THE MAN . a study in : you're mad because i'm yelling / i'm mad because you're silent ; , THE MAN , irishlasskicker, past present & future , THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED TO DEFEAT YOU , been around the block , seen it all ; & how to be the G.O.A.T. . penned , loved & cared for , by saz ( 22 , cst , she/her ) for n/a .

connections open & available through sending a dm , hitting the heart , or via discord ( which will be available upon request ! )

#› 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐔𝐏 ‹ intro . #› 𝐈'𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐌 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 ‹ pinned .

[cedestms]

#CEDESTMS ; a dependent portrayal of new japan ' s 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄 ; bitch , i said what i said , i ‘ d rather be famous instead . a study in : knowing your goddamn worth ; trash talkin’ , takin’ names , THE CEO , working & working & working & working , AMBITION TO A FAULT , & a boss , no matter where you are . penned , loved & cared for , by saz ( 22 , cst , she/her ) for wrestledreamrpg .

connections open & available through sending a dm , hitting the heart , or via discord ( which will be available upon request ! )

#wrestledream.intro #› 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 ‹ pinned . #› 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 ‹ intro .

[justanothergreb]

So the talk I did today - smashed it, could not have gone better (bar the inevitable tech issues which still plague any online conference!) I feel really proud of myself; public speaking is not my thing but apparently as I have grown older, it’s something people very much think I am good at. Which is a lovely surprise for the quiet girl who never said much at school or in presentations in general. 

I am however still feeling a little down as I realise not many people seem to understand how important my career is to me and that this was a big deal. There were a 1000 of my peers at this conference and we got a good healthy turnout of just over 120 attendees (we were up against three other sessions, one of which was chatGPT-based sooooooooo). I’ve had 30 friend requests on LinkedIn, we’ve double the people in our little group to talk about our niche. I’ve told people to nick our ideas, borrow my team chart to push for what you can do if we’re properly funded as a resource. But still I feel like people close to me don’t get it. 

My mum had to give up her job when she married my dad. I remember it so well as a kid. She had been a rep for another of our city’s niche trades. She wore woollen Karen Millen suits to go to trade shows in London, she could tell you the code for every type of thing they made (she still can) and she gave it all up because of a man. A man who couldn’t cope that she wasn’t at home, the prospect of men talking to her at trade shows, enjoying herself, living life. She will say she didn’t mind, she’d always wanted to be a housewife, her vision of the 1950s little lady at home. But I could see she was miserable. No money of her own, stuck in a house on her own. I remember the argument where she was forced to give up a part-time job in a bridal boutique, refusing to go back. Instead she got a job as a dinner lady at my old school and a couple of cleaning jobs. She’ll tell you she is thick, but my mum is anything but when she puts her mind to it (and listens). I look at her and vowed I would never give up my career for a man or anyone else. 

I’ve felt recently like a lot of people don’t really get that my career isn’t some silly little job at a university and all I do is sit and send emails to students all day. Far from it. I’ve known since I was a teenager I wanted a job where I could help people. I toyed with journalism but the deadline pressure just did not appeal. Dad always thought I would go into law (Saz stop eye rolling and just LOL) because I have always been good at seeing both sides of things (quite the compliment when I think about it seeing as we argued. A lot. Also some of you stop laughing). Again I thought about it but I could never square having to defend someone who I knew in my heart was actually guilty, my moral compass far too strong-willed - and I am amazed at anyone in law who can defend anyone who is so clearly guilty or at fault (I secretly think they must be a little morally ambiguous because how can you sleep at night - see moral compass, exceptionally strong, unless it comes to a slightly Germanic looking man with nice thighs, then the compass is busted).  

Teaching seemed the obvious route and I blossomed as a TA in Germany. But the English school system is a mess and if we had had the option to teach a foreign language with a humanity (as in Germany) I would’ve been fine. Here the need to speak multiple languages well and truly screwed me over as unless you plonk me in France and keep me speaking it, my French disappears overnight. So I worked my little data and events job, tricking myself bringing the NHS and pharmaceutical companies together would help people. It mostly helped the pockets of the company I worked for. 

My decision to move back to some form of education was fuelled by a need to help and to be honest, I prefer older students. Bit more fun. When I applied for the job I eventually got, I applied because it said ‘events’ and it mentioned CV checking - and I bloody love a CV check. Ideal for me. I quickly discovered that most of my new colleagues were the same as me - wanting to help people. Whether it was a CV check, a chat about a job or helping someone to plan their career, we all wanted to help people. My predecessor, who I now realise had been keeping his eye on me from the moment I started (something about men with that name, clearly), was also in this vein. Particular of his website and clunky emails, his mission was to promote our offer to get students the support they needed. We bonded immediately when he discovered I knew how to work a website back end, could figure out social media quicker than most and would happily tell our director he was a tool (never speak down on a WP student background when I’m around). We both got if you get the messaging right, you maximise the number of people you can reach and therefore support. 

When I moved into his team just two days before the pandemic, it felt coming to work “home”. This was the team I needed to be on. Yes, I gave up some of my student contact but I could do much more in this job. When he decided to retire, I knew this was finally my chance. I’ve always wanted to be strategic, managerial, lead a team - something again nobody really understood. “You’ll never be a manager” was one of the things a former manager happily told me. “How dare you think you lead a team” she said, as I led a team on projects that she had nothing to do with and asked me to lead on. I enjoyed those brief forays into leading because you got to develop someone, watch them grow and make sure everything was OK. I cried in my interview as I got overwhelmed saying how much this job meant to me if I got it and I cried after when I got the job. 

My silly little marketing job is actually running a website which gets 20,000+ hits an academic year. It’s social media platforms which need to be kept updated constantly. It’s understanding how we use a 50 page brand guideline document so our posts don’t get pulled because we got the tone of voice slightly wrong. It's managing a team of 9-10 people who have different strengths, needs and roles. Including a student placement who needs the best experience while they are with us. And leading all my team to be the best version of themselves, so I cry my eyes out when they leave. It’s reading emails which go out to thousands of students ever week. It’s communicating out the most ridiculous offer known to man so we get to at least one student or graduate and get them to interact. It’s showing students for the millionth time how to access a fair dashboard or walking them to an employer stand. It’s making the difference for that one student. 

I was never going to be a doctor or a lawyer or some high powered business person. I was always going to my have my little niche. A niche that is important to me. A job that, for all my complaints, I absolutely love. And people just don’t seem to get it. And that’s sad to me. 

#careers chat #careers #can you tell i work in careers? #just getting it off my chest #shout out to my niche career people #it matters to me

[stvnszlr]

helloooo i’m here with another short prompt !

duff , our big sweet gentle giant , reads YOU a bedtime story !!! i left the reader very vague , so you can read this as platonic or romantic or whatever else you like ^_^

duff mckagan + gender-neutral ! reader — very very fluffy !! ( 682 words )

With a grunt, Duff awkwardly swung one long leg over the edge of the bed…

…shoving himself up onto the mattress. It took him a few moments to adjust, but he soon rolled over to rest sitting up, back against the pillows and legs straight out in front of him. He smiled toward you softly, corners of his eyes crinkling as his deep green gaze reflected nothing but gentle love and care.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he mumbled, stretching out a hand to lead you toward him. He kept hold of it as you struggled your way onto the bed with him, grasping at the sheets clumsily to keep your balance. “Careful, there,” Duff grinned, though even as he smiled at your difficulty, he steadied you with a hand gently pressed against your back.

As soon as you felt stable, you quickly molded yourself to Duff’s side, cuddling up to his large, warm frame. His plush tummy made the perfect pillow, and the softness of the sheets beneath you already had you melting right into the bed. Duff glanced down at you with a mix of amusement and surprise, lifting his arm for a moment to let you snuggle up to him even closer.

With an arm around his waist and your face smushed against his hip, you finally settled in with a content sigh.

Duff found himself grinning at the giddy smile on your face. He felt quite proud of himself for already bringing you so much joy and security. He let his arm settle around you, his large hand resting on your shoulder as he held you close. “You comfortable?” He asked with a murmur, glancing down at you for confirmation.

The most you could do was nod, nuzzling your cheek into Duff’s soft stomach. You couldn’t get close enough to him—being pressed up against his large body felt safer than anywhere on earth.

Duff’s fingers twisted and toyed with the sleeve of your sleep shirt, occasionally dragging his fingers tenderly across your arm. With his other hand, he opened the old, worn hardcover book that had been resting on the nightstand beside you. He held the book up by resting it on his leg, slightly bent at the knee.

With a gentle clearing of his throat, Duff swallowed and began the story. “The Wind in the Willows,” he announced softly, his voice settling from his usual, casual tone to a more concentrated one—that of a narrator. His fingers stroked your arm reassuringly once again.

“The mole had been working very hard all morning,” his deep voice read, “spring-cleaning his little home.”

As he spoke, you felt gentle vibrations through your cheek pressed against his skin. The rumbling of his steady voice was comforting, and you felt your eyes begin to droop. You burrowed your face into the exposed skin at his stomach, humming softly as you let his words wash over you.

The story was simple and sweet, and the domesticity of it all matched the way you felt all snuggled up to Duff. You smiled against him as he described the small woodland creatures. Each one got their own unique voice, and him alternating between the high squeak of a rabbit had and the low, gruff speech of a mole made you giggle sleepily.

Duff loved to goof around, and loved to make you laugh even more.

Soon enough, the soothing rhythm of his storytelling brought you more drowsiness than entertainment. Your head felt fuzzy, and your chest swelled with warmth. Slowly, your eyes fell closed, and your mouth opened slightly as your breathing evened out.

Duff noticed after a few moments that you’d gone fully still against him. His voice tapered off as he finished his last sentence, and he smiled down at you as he realized you’d fallen asleep. He stroked his fingers through your hair gently, his eyes full of adoration and care.

“Goodnight, angel,” he murmured, relaxing still and quiet on the bed to avoid disturbing you. You looked so content from his view, cuddled up into him and breathing deeply as you slumbered.

“Sweet dreams.”

#saz requests ! #duff mckagan #gnr #guns n roses #duff mckagan x reader #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses imagine

[sarahscribbles]

Hi Pals of Saz and @cake-writes

Just a lil “life update” that I’m likely to ease off on posting fics. This isn’t something I want to do, but I started full time at my big girl job today and I’ve already been approached about completing further qualifications at some point this year.

I’m likely not going to have the same time to commit to writing 😭 (after my first day I am Shattered 😅), so fics will probably not come at the same speed as before. This is going to impact the requests I’ve gotten (both from last summer and from my follower celebration). I’m so sorry but I will try my best to keep some sort of posting “schedule”.

(Also to anyone who has sent me messages and tagged me in posts that I haven’t answered yet but sees me posting this: I will (hopefully) respond to you all tonight 😂)

[queenof-sarcasm]

Perfect mural art for kitchen or bathroom wall. Hard to find traditional floral designs portraying the beauty of life and nature in the traditional ultramarine and cobalt blue border color scheme. Best backsplash art! Name: Blue Dream Backsplash Type: Dry-press Ceramic Tile for the wall Dimensions: 120cm x 160cm (approx 47 1/4"x 62 63/64") Winding floral semi-natural art of the İznik Era with Tulips, Hyacinths and reeds (saz). Lasting art, excellent color, perfect glaze, scratch proof design, both heat and water resistant. For more information or for resizing requests, e-mail: [email protected]. All inquires responded to promptly. FREE SHIPPING, GUARANTEED SAFE DELIVERY (United States) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn2NYgAsY-W/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[tkc-info]

The Carranzas's sobriquets pt3

Petronila Carranza de Narváez (1722-1799): la Cortesana

AKA, the member of the court

There was nothing Petronila hated more than Aboveground nobility, but she certainly appreciated their aesthetic and superficial way of life --after all, what she disliked was how riddled with politics they had become in her family.

Petronila lived as a resident of Versailles would. She went to party after party, busied herself with going shopping for ever the more lavish gowns, she was courted with multiple men at once (which may not have been something the humans her age were doing, not that she cared), and gossiped like there was no tomorrow. Truthfully, she was much like a Saz member of a royal European court, with only her libertine ways and insignia marking her as other.

--------------------

Antonia Carranza Fernández (1745-1814): la Ilustrada o la Afrancesada

AKA, the enlightened or the frenchified

Antonia was perhaps the Carranza with the most faith in humanity. She lived at a time where the Enlightenment was gaining more and more power, and avidly encouraged it by owning a salon in Aboveground Madrid frequented by figures such as the Conde de Floridablanca or even Carlos III, whom she allegedly urged to shift Spain into a constitutional monarchy to no success.

When the War of Independence broke out, Antonia actually supported Napoleon's side. After all, she reasoned, Enlightenment and liberalism were already in Spain, there was no need to request another French king came back when the Frenchman there had created a constitution.

However, that didn't stop her from being terribly curious about the Constitution the Cortes de Cádiz was making, and was very pleasantly surprised to learn how progressive it was.

Rumour has it, that when Fernando VII was crowned king of Spain after the War of Independence was won and the Constitution of 1812 was ditched in favour of returning to absolutism, Antonia died out of sheer disgust.

--------------------

Cleofas Carranza Esquilache (1766-1936): la Cuenta Cuentos

AKA, the storyteller

Cleofas never felt like dealing with humans approaching her for her crystal eye, so she dressed as a tapada de medio ojo and strolled through the streets of her village as if she were a ghost.

But Cleofas had a very macabre sense of humour, and so her desire to stay away from rude questions quickly morphed into a desire for doing mischief. She began standing next to shopkeepers, to whom she whispered 'you are standing on my tomb' in a frail tone; sitting by the elderly's side, taking their hands and whispering 'I know what you did'; and going to Church in the middle of mass to yell 'a sinner won't be able to cure you of your sins'. To the children, she liked to tell the stories she wrote and which the adults then used them to piece together the 'past' of the woman Cleofas had been when 'alive'.

The ominous whispering and yelling eventually stopped once Cleofas grew bored, but the storytelling continued. Soon she'd become a loving staple in the community, with the children and parents cherishing her stories of rotten princesses and murdered princes, and even making puppet plays out of them.

Once the Spanish Civil War started, the village became one of the first places to be raided by the fascists. The unorthodox, irreligious way in which it had evolved scandalised and quickly prompted them to kill the people that had become Cleofas's external family. Cleofas was so devastated, she asked to have her body de-cryogenised so that she could die. Her last words were: death and suffering belong in my stories, not in a country, not among siblings.

Tapadas de medio ojo/cobijadas were women who covered themselves in a black, thick veil that hid anything but the left eye. From what I've read, it could've originated from the times Muslims controlled a big portion of the peninsula, from the Spanish themselves or even from Jewish people. Also from what I've read, tapadas de medio ojo were seen with the most assiduity in the 17th century, and they usually were wealthy prostitutes or just women in general who wanted anonymity (though this later led to problems such as brothers thinking their sisters were someone they could have relations with). Cleofas isn't the only one who liked wearing the tapadas's veil --Dionisia, Urraca and others wore it as well-- but she was the one known for it because she refused to tread Aboveground with her face, thus prosthetic eye, uncovered.

--------------------

Ifigenia Carranza Esquilache (1802-1884): la Jueza o el Cuervo

AKA, the judge or the raven

Ifigenia had a reputation for being scary, even more so than her mother. She was ever-serious and surrounded by her unkindness of ravens, whom she adored as her pets and due to which the sobriquet 'the raven' was coined to refer to her.

Her other sobriquet, 'the judge', was a result of her accurate judgements of people and situations. If Ifigenia said someone was bad, then their evil was always, eventually, discovered; if Ifigenia said an earthquake would occur in two days, then two days later the ground would begin to shake.

Ifigenia was originally called 'the oracle', but she openly criticised that term. "I'm not an oracle who gets her information from the future through a magical source," she'd say, although she never revealed how she knew so much.

Only her mother Cleofas, to whom she was really close, knew said source: mathematics.

--------------------

Crespa Carranza de Lisón (1825-1902): la Titiritera

AKA the puppeteer

Crespa is one of the most intelligent Carranzas.

Born a woman in absolutist Spain, there was no hope for her to receive any education Aboveground other than in the Carranzas's own school-hid-as-convent, but Crespa refused to do so from a young age. Instead, she donned men's clothes and passed as a boy at a human school until she was fourteen --getting her Saz education in her free time-- and when she became fourteen, she resulted to using her male friends as a means through which enriching her knowledge.

To do that, she would hide in the classrooms's closets (sometimes even ceilings and floor) to hear the lessons, and fully take possession of her friend to answer the questions her teachers asked and voice any doubts she might have (something atypical of her). This took a lot of concentration and proficiency in her insignia, such a proficiency The Kinship had never before seen --therefore Crespa passed on to be known as simply 'the puppeteer'.

Her strategy was employed during university, and then during her job as a professor in the Universidad de Salamanca, but at that time, it was her husband (someone who was otherwise a househusband) who she controlled.

Crespa kept her strategy a secret from all but one human: Miguel de Unamuno*, who became her favourite author as well as her closest human friend later on in life.

*Nothing to say but I really fucking respect this guy. He thought for himself, he had the balls to tell the fascists they were wrong during an event he'd been invited to expressly to praise them during the Civil War, he admitted he was wrong in supporting them at the beginning of the war (the tags of this + the fact that the ii Republic was overall a mess are the explanation --Unamuno didn't sympathise with the fascists, and in fact was exiled in the 1920s because he openly criticised the proto-fascist dictatorship of the time).

--------------------

Gregoria Carranza Tresfuentes (1872-1931): la Libertina

AKA the libertine

Gregoria wasn't much for knowledge nor intellectual pleasure. She wanted to party, sleep with men without a care for respectability or consequences, read heated books and write even more heated letters to her many lovers, discard social conventions without a care, dress however she liked wherever and whenever she liked.

In all, everyone just agrees Gregoria was the pure embodiment of everything a libertine should be.

--------------------

Ifigenia Carranza de Ure (1892-1979): la del Destino de Desgracias

AKA the one with the destiny made of bad luck

The Kinship knows Ifigenia as the unluckiest Carranzas. She used to be a cheerful girl, then a loving wife, then a devoted mother to her three daughters, but the Spanish Civil War broke her happiness.

Ifigenia saw her family fall apart when her oldest daughters joined each one of the opposing bands and shrugged off their Saz identity. Ifigenia was the one who carried their bodies to their caskets, and then explained to her youngest daughter what had happened to her sisters.

After the Civil War, Ifigenia made it her mission to spread the news of what had happened across Mirror, to let everyone who would listen to her of the dangers of political extremism, populism, and the ideologies that ran rampant at the time. During World War II, she played a key role in the assembly of the Escuadrones Ajenos, that were a wide-scale project to try to save not only Saz, but humans as well, from the atrocities committed during the war. However, the Escuadrones Ajenos were discontinued after continuous failure to protect humans due to technical reasons and the actions of other humans*, thus marking yet another cause of distraught in Ifigenia's life.

Happiness was wrenched from Ifigenia in 1937, and she never gained it back until the General Franco died in November 1975: the month she lived more than him was probably the happiest time of her life.

*WWII was the most catastrophic war in history, and I can see why making fantasy a prominent element of it might not be the wisest thing to do. Let's just say that during military conflict, The Kinship just actively works towards aiding their own, because there are a fuck ton of Saz so that's a fit in and off itself and they don't want to know what the repercussions of Aboveground finding them out would be (eg #1: humans demonising them for being different and thus making Aboveground unsafe; eg #2: WWIII breaking loose because human governments want Mirror's natural resources or Saz to experiment with in order to artificially make humans Saz, so countries form alliances to attack Mirror a la Blitzkrieg or some shit, which would result in several million deaths; eg #3: a witch-hunt like situation happens within human governments because they think everyone is a potential Saz spy, and human governments going to shit = countries going to shit = the lives of the Saz living in those countries and with the humans from them going to shit). There are Saz that can have a more active role in wars, but they're not backed by the government, and if the actions they're going to carry out go fundamentally against other Saz (eg being a Nazi, because there are Jewish Saz who Hitler definitely thinks should be in concentration camps), they lose the ownership over their nationality and using their insignia --or any other Saz marker, including speaking Sazla-- is prohibited under risk of prosecutors killing you for it if humans find out about insignia.

--------------------

Eulalia Carranza Machado (1913-1939): la Apátrida o la Católica

AKA the stateless or the catholic

--------------------

Eulalia renounced of her Saz identity when she decided to join the self-named national band during the Spanish Civil War. She was known to have been pushed into the conflict following the start of the Red Terror, due to the impact the systemic persecution of the clergy had on her.

Leonor Carranza Machado (1915-1939): la Apátrida o la Roja

AKA the stateless or the roja

Much like her older sister, Leonor abandoned her Saz identity the moment she decided to take an active role in the republican side of the Spanish Civil War, becoming, thus, stateless. Many in Mirror also know her with the term 'roja', which was used as a derogatory term for left-leaning individuals.

--------------------

Matea Carranza Machado (1931-2016): la Buena Hermana

AKA the good sister

After Eulalia and Leonor turned their back on their country, the whole family turned to their younger sister, Matea, for hope. And Matea fulfilled their wish.

Matea's life was full of accomplishments, and yet she's remembered for the easiest --but most significant-- of them: being the better of the three Carranza Machado sisters.

#the kinship chronicles #am I putting my knowledge of history into good use? #yes yes I am #viva la pepa #nfidndisnwiwneiwwjwowndu honestly fuck fernando and his wife and his brother and all the silly absolutists who didn't want the constitution #*I* wouldn't want it rn because it's old but? #it abolished the inquisition? gave the people in the colonies the same rights as people in the peninsula? established spain as a democracy? #like I'd like to have maintained that constitution and not whatever the fuck was fernando and then his daughter's reign was #the constitution of 1869 can remain but the other four have no rights I hate it here #fernando and carlos should've died in bayona or something so that francisco de paula could reign #and *then* his gay politically-pliable son could've reigned next and then the cortes would have controled stuff and there would be democrac #democracy and then I'd have more info on the gay king's romance which tbh sounds nice because he only had one lover #en fin la hipotenusa #btw ifigenia was like a walking computer/algorithm/ya tu sabes #like mathematics could genuinely 'see the future' and she's the embodiment of that #btw clearly talking very little about leonor and eulalia because they have their own book lol

[cannondisabledcharacters]

Today’s disabled character of the day is Saz from Cape of Spirits, who is visually impaired

Requested by Anon

#visually impaired character #spoilers! #Cape of Spirits #Cape of Spirits saz #disabled character of the day

[solari-writes-things]

Return

🛑 WARNINGS: Spoilers to The Phantom Menace. 🛑

✨ requested by: @sazafraz​​

✨ Pairing: Gray Jedi!Maul x OC

✨ Summary: Maul returns to Norella after a journey of self-discovery, having kept in contact with her through their Force Dyad.

✨ Solari Says: You’ll recognize this plot, Saz, because it is one we’ve talked over before on Discord. I hope it brings you as much soft as I hope. <3 For those who do not know, Norella is the Empress of a system called Lucent Prime, a fan-made kingdom that @sazafraz​ has thought of and told me all about. Also, Maul had only been stabbed. Not bisected. Know this, before moving forward.

✨ Prompt(s) -

Kunzite - experiencing unconditional love.

gif credit: to the OP.

MORE MAUL | MORE STAR WARS | > MASTERLIST < |

Norella’s eyes bore into the bustling city outside of her quarters window. Her drapes were pulled apart just so that she could thoroughly observe everything that was occurring--for any sort of signs that she could possibly receive. She remained hopeful, passionately hopeful that he would find himself back on her planet once more.

She missed Maul. Her heart ached every time that they would see each other, as clear as she saw the structures that were sprouted out of the ground below--all without the physical presence that she so craved. Her hands crossed behind her back, letting out a heavy sigh as she turned slowly to finally go perform the duties she was set.

Heron, her assistant and father figure since her parents’ passing, had his arms folded behind his back properly and bowed when Norella had moved her attention to him.

“What is on our agenda today, Heron?” she asked quietly, her posture professional but her eyes just hinting at her small bit of sadness.

“Nothing out of the ordinary today, my lady,” he answered honestly, straightening out.

“Good... I do not think I can handle something out of the ordinary,” she responded, her eyes averting downwards.

It was like a switch flipped, the parental side of Heron beginning to peer through the cracks of formality. “Is there something troubling you, Norella? You seem... off balance.”

The charm of Lucent Prime was that Norella and her direct assistants were all force-sensitive. As much as it made the Empress feel more at home, it also made things much more difficult in terms of stowing emotions.

Heron had been privy to Norella’s growing feelings for Maul. She had been responsible for him when he was found, stowed away on a supply ship headed for her planet after his battle with Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was injured, barely hanging on through the sheer anger and vengeance he had stored inside. She had helped him regain himself, and during this time they had discovered the Force had directly connected them.

He began to calm down. He became less angry, less fueled by vengeance, the longer he stayed in her care on Lucent Prime. When he processed that he had been abandoned by his prior Sith master, he had decided to leave Lucent Prime in order to discover what his life was meant for. He wanted to figure out what he wanted for himself, if he wanted to build something after he had realized that no one from his past life was coming back.

It had been months now. After he had made his presence known for almost three months time, he had promptly disappeared.

She could not fault him for wanting to pave his own way, it was something that she knew he desired. A life of hatred, a life of abandonment, was something that would have drove him mad should he linger on it for longer.

She was happy to get any update she could. Little by little, she could see him change. His posture, the way that he spoke, began to change.

“I miss him,” she says simply, knowing Heron would understand.

“I know you do, my lady,” Heron responded, his eyes much softer than they had been before. “I’m sure that he will reach out to you again, in time. For now, we must focus on the task at hand.”

Norella nods her head a bit solemnly, before beginning to walk beside Heron out of her quarters. The door shut behind her, she lets out a soft exhale as they traverse the massive halls. The clicking of her heels echoed in the empty halls, as her mind began to wander during their short trip to the throne room.

When she was about to begin her ascent up the three steps leading to her throne, she pauses. There was a shift in the air, a breach in the Force that she just felt stir in her stomach. However, as sudden as it was, there was a familiar warmth that accompanied it. She places her hand over her heart in response to it, feeling it begin to pick up it’s drumming in her chest.

Maul.

She turns, her eyes much more lively as they searched in the throne room--as if he were going to barge through the door. She hears his ship fly overhead through the walls, lifting up her skirt slightly so that she may begin to move quickly.

She begins her running, her heels clacking on the floor. Her guards tried to step and stop her to due her sudden movements, but Heron raises a hand for them to stop. And they do, pausing in their tracks and watching as their Empress moved as fast as her garb would allow.

She charges through a blast door that opened up, causing the warmth of the sun to leak through and crash against her skin. She winces a little due to the sudden light change, but her eyes quickly adjust to the ship that had made its home on the landing bay.

The doors hissed open, and she could feel her heartbeat rise the lower it got to touching the bay floor. When it gently clattered, she began to approach it slowly.

She could see the beginnings of his dark boots stepping down, making her heart race just a little more. More of him began to reveal itself as he descended down the ramp. He had his dark robes on, his hood up and over his horns and tattooed skin. He paused when his eyes rested on Norella, and she could feel his content coursing through his veins through their dyad.

She picks up her skirt again, speed-walking towards him. As she drew closer, she could see the difference in his tunics that lay against his form. They were black, with intricate designs that only shown when the light hit against it. They were beautiful, and they suit him much more than the simple black that he had worn when she met him.

“Maul,” she greeted, smiling sweetly when she got close enough. She wanted to hug him, pull him close so that she could receive the physical affection she so craved.

“Empress Norella,” he greeted back, bowing in formality when she addressed him.

“I... I wasn’t sure that you would be returning,” she admitted, attempting to swallow the feelings that she could feel boiling between them.

She could feel that he missed her, just as much as she did him. That he was also starved of affection that he so craved, hungry for her presence. She watched him closely, on his body language that gave away her assumption. And if she payed enough attention, she would begin to notice more differences with him.

He gazed into her eyes, and she felt entrapped by the blue that he had. Something about the way it contrasted against his red and black skin drew Norella closer and closer to him, finding it harder to look away. “To be quite honest, I wasn’t sure if I was to return when I had left here, but... I found myself thinking of you. Often. So I reached out to you.”

“I... appreciated that, you know. I enjoyed seeing your progression, your face,” she folded her arms behind her, averting her eyes downward.

She could hear Maul step closer and closer to her, and soon his body was only about a foot from hers. She looked up at him once more, a little surprised to see his soft expression as he studied her. He felt as if it had been years, even though it was only months, and seeing her beauty in front of him was almost surreal.

Like he had been dreaming.

They didn’t need to say anything to each other, in terms of their feelings. Their dyad made it impossible for them to hide the swelling love that they felt boiling in their chests. It was almost overwhelming, as Maul reached up and placed a hand at her cheek.

She leaned into his ginger touch, the aspect of it almost feeling imaginary. Something that she had craved for so long, and finally able to receive it. Nothing that they experienced through their dyad could surmount to the moment that they were in now.

So he leaned in, his blue eyes much more gentle than she had ever seen them. She knew what he was trying to do, and frankly hurried for their lips to meet in the middle. To describe their kiss would be a cliché, but she was half inclined to agree with them; there were butterflies in her stomach, fireworks setting off between the two of them. Whatever it may be, she felt it amplified by the Force--by their dyad.

And when they reluctantly pulled away, he brought her in close so his arms wrapped around her. His palm held the back of her head, so her temple was placed against his chest. She hummed in content, her arms raveling around him as she relished in the attention she had finally been able to receive.

“I take it this means you’re staying...” she said, her voice a low mutter as she almost drowned in the feelings she had.

“I realized on my journey, that I couldn’t see myself anywhere else,” he admitted, his thumb brushing against her white hair.

And she smiled.

__

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